Dear Heart
by SKH
Summary: Police duties make Dick Grayson miss a Valentine's date with Barbara


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**_©February 2003  
_**Rating: PG-13  
Characters: Dick and Babs  
Disclaimer: Characters herein are owned by DC Comics/Time Warner/AOL.   
No profit is realized from creation of stories based on these trademarked characters.   
Not to be archived without permission.  
Comments and feedback are welcome to SKHwrite@cranky-dog.com

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**_Dear Heart _**

By SKH

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Life sucks. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not today. I've worked double shifts all week to cover the shortage of personnel at the Blüdhaven P.D., just so I could have tonight and first shift tomorrow off. I don't even _*want*_ to mention what's been going on in my _*other*_ job! The gangs in the 'Mores are having a field day now that the BPD is short-staffed, and Nightwing has had it tougher than an iron-jaw with a toothache. 

It's nobody's fault... it was an accident. Actually, a freakin' catastrophe, if you want to be accurate. A freight train derailed when some jackass tried to run the crossbars at a railroad crossing. Cars all over both sides of the tracks, Haz-Mat teams on the job, traffic ground to a standstill just in time for evening rush hour. Two dead, twelve injured, and a 6-block evacuation because of a chemical spill. BPD, Haven County Sheriff's Department, Highway Patrol... hell, even the local National Guard was called in on this one.

I had reservations for the Valentine's Day grand opening of the new Gotham Sky Room. Harry Connick, Jr. is playing there tonight. I got Bruce, of all people, to help score this gig for me and I NEVER ask him to pull strings. 

I just wanted this to be a perfect Valentine's Day for me and Babs. It's not that I had ulterior motives, no ring in a glass of champagne, or anything — we're not there yet. It hasn't been the easiest year for us, but we've prevailed, despite all the mess we've both been through.

We just... needed a night like the one I'd planned for tonight.

She tried to sound like she wasn't disappointed when I called her about the change in plans. She'd already been monitoring the emergency channels, and I guess she'd been steeling herself for the inevitable... my cancellation. God Bless her for sounding optimistic, when I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me for letting her down. At least the flowers got there. And the Teddie-Gram. That's "teddie" as in Victoria's Secret, green satin and lace, not some little stuffed bear with candy.

Damn.

Captain just came over and told me and the new partner to call it quits. Great, it's only 1:30 in the morning. Oh, and happy day, I get tomorrow off. Big whoopin' deal, like I need it now. I could use the sleep, though. Maybe I can salvage something with Babs... but I know better. She had someone to cover Oracle's duties tonight... not tomorrow. No guarantee she'll be able to get away tomorrow, er, tonight. Aw crap. I'm so tired I can't think straight. Anyway, I guess I can pick up some takeout and go hang with her while she works. But last time I did that, I fell asleep on the couch.

Screw it. I tell the new partner to just drop me off at my building and clock me out when he gets back to the station. I can drive the muscle car to Gotham later, and hopefully my Ninja will be safe at the precinct.

I'm so beat I bypass the stairs and take the elevator to the third floor. Lazy, yeah, but I'm freakin' dead on my feet. I key the lock and step inside, hang up my jacket, and put my piece away in the closet. I could leave it hanging in the holster on the coat rack, but to tell the truth, I'm no more comfortable with it in my apartment than Bruce is, and _*everyone*_ knows how much he likes firearms.

It takes a couple of seconds before it finally hits me... the smells first — scented candles and food. And then it dawns on me that music is playing on my stereo — Harry Connick...

I back out of the closet and close the door. When I turn around...

"You know, for the 'world's second-greatest detective,' you're a little slow on the uptake, Hunk-Wonder!"

I blink a few times, just to make sure I'm not hallucinating. There she is, wearing the green teddie, with those mile-long legs stretched out on my sofa. I blink again, moving my gaze back up those legs to breasts barely covered by the stretchy lace that leaves a lot less to the imagination than it looked in the store, that's for sure.

"Is that a batarang in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?"

Okay, that breaks the spell, and I laugh, a little self-consciously, and rub my hand over the 5 o'clock shadow that's six hours old. I could give Harper a run for the money in the stubble department now.

"I stink, Babs," I say without thinking.

"I can hold my breath for a minute and a half. I've clocked myself in the pool. Get over here, if you can move."

I guess I'm moving. I can barely feel my feet I'm so tired, but I make it across the room to the sofa, to those legs, those breasts, those emerald eyes and auburn tresses. Out of the corner of my eye I see that some kind of arrangement of food is on the coffee table, but Babs is the only feast I'm interested in at the moment. I bend down and plant a long, wet one on her mouth, and suddenly I'm not quite as tired as I thought.

"Mmmm... nice.... but you're right, Grayson. You are a little gamey. You hungry? Did you get anything to eat tonight?"

I lift her legs, swing around, and park my butt on the couch, resting her smooth, silky legs — did I say how long her legs are? — across my lap. "A little, and 'no.'" I tear my eyes from hers and look at what's on the menu.

"You know, the best thing about fondue is those little cans of fire keep it all hot and melty."

We spend the next few minutes munching stuff dipped in melted cheese and chocolate dipped strawberries, feeding each other and just smiling. I've gone from completely disheartened to... grateful. Babs hardly ever leaves Oracle's lair, and she really hates Blüdhaven, almost as much as Bruce does. It dawns on me that I left my apartment in a pretty deplorable condition today, especially since I didn't think I'd be entertaining. I look around for the first time, and....

"I had help. Alfred followed me over and sort of sand-blasted your apartment. I won't repeat what he said, but you're going to owe him a big favor, somewhere on the order of digging him a new rose garden."

"I'll do him one better," I said. "I'll even score him the greatest-fertilizer-on-Earth — elephant manure."

"Annnnd, speaking of earthy-smelling things, why don't you go take a shower? I'll take care of things here."

It took a lot of effort, but I managed to let go of her and pull my ass off the couch. My reward was ten minutes of hot water scouring away a day of frustration and disappointment. I stepped out of the bathroom wearing a towel and a smile.

... which got bigger when I saw Babs stretched out on my bed.

"Excuse me, Grayson, but you're entering the 'no-towel' zone. I'm afraid you'll have to check that thing at the bathroom door."

I happily complied, drinking in the sight of Babs drinking in the sight of me. Okay, I'm not going to be overly modest here, especially when I'm in the onset of serious arousal. I know Babs likes looking at me, and I don't mind one bit putting on a little show for her. She still won't admit to it, but I know she's been sneaking peeks at me through the security cameras in my apartment for kind of a while.

And besides, she's my girl. I'm her guy. I'm her guy who's climbing onto the bed and kissing my way up her belly as I'm pulling down the straps of the green satin and lace teddie, and....

I could go on, but I only have enough blood to make one head work at a time. All I'm saying is... life is pretty freakin' amazing.

**_The End_**

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End file.
